


i’d give up forever to touch you

by lickmyaesthetic



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boys Kissing, Canon Gay Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Post-Season/Series 03 Fix-It, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23134060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lickmyaesthetic/pseuds/lickmyaesthetic
Summary: when Ander suddenly realizes that his health scare was more serious than he anticipated, he begins to feel lost and loses hope of happiness. He pushes Omar away, not wanting him to have to bear the brunt of responsibility for his illness, but Omar is adamant on proving to Ander that he wasn’t leaving his side. He wanted to be there for his boyfriend, to help him get through this.[or, my own personal rewrite of omander in season 3 which excludes the part where omar cheats because they deserve better. ]
Relationships: Ander Muñoz/Omar Shana, Ander Muñoz/Omar Shanaa
Comments: 52
Kudos: 286





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i’m just going to pretend that season 3 for omander didn’t happen bc they were so out of character and the writers kept making them breakup & get back together just for the angst and i’m not here for it. 
> 
> this season made me so upset with omar and ander (at times), i just want them to be happy without the impending angst all of the time :( if there’s a season four the writers better not put omander through that bullshit again!
> 
> this is my attempt at rewriting season 3 for omander where omar doesn’t cheat on ander with malick. there will be angst included but not as much that is depicted in the show. this fic will feature my own scenes, but will probably include some from the show as well.

He’s in the bathroom; his plaid boxers are pooled around his ankles, the cotton fabric baseball t-shirt that he’d put on for pajamas was absentmindedly tossed aside onto the floor, a handheld mirror was perched in his shaky hand.

Ander lowered the mirror, extending it outwards a bit so he could fully inspect the swollen lump that Omar had detected on his girth earlier. Using his other hand, he grabs ahold of his cock and moves it aside, allowing him to retrieve a better view of the small bump. Ander swallowed thickly, his heartbreak accruing at a hasty pace as he sees the swollen flesh, freshly maimed and red chafed on his groin.

Earlier, when Omar initially informed him of the lump, Ander didn’t heed much attention to it as Omar adamantly assured him that it was probably nothing, but still opted for him to get it tested. Ander had insouciantly assumed that it wasn’t too serious — but looking closely at it now, and touching it and realizing that it was now sore caused a timorous trepidation began to arise within him.

“Babe?” He hears Omar’s raspy, sleep-addled voice call from the opposite side of the door followed by a rapt of soft knocks. “What’s going on, why aren’t you in bed?” Ander could hear the worry lilting in his boyfriend’s voice.

Setting the mirror onto the counter, Ander crouched down and grabs ahold of his boxers, shimmying them back over his slender hips. Gaitering over to the door, he unlocks it and pulls it open allowing Omar to enter. His face is flushed from the deep sleep he was previously in, his clothes were tousled and strewn messily about, his eyes were slightly lulled over in exasperation.

“Are you okay? I woke up and you weren’t in bed. I waited for you but you never came back.” Omar says, walking further into the bathroom and leaning his body against the counter.

Ander mussles his fingers through his disheveled curls and swallows thickly. “I couldn’t sleep.” He murmurs, his eyes abashedly lowering, settling a gaze onto the tile of his floors.

Omar’s lips thinned in a worried frown. “Is it because Polo’s back?” He curiously catechizes; already knowing that the reinstatement of Polo’s return to school caused a huge uproar around town and that seeing him at school again after he was acquitted of the murder charges, was probably a lot for Ander to deal with.

But Ander shakes his head, refuting Omar’s inquiry.

“Then what is it?”

Ander squeezes his eyes shut and exhaled a shaky breath. “It’s the lump. I took a closer look at it—” Ander shakes his head again, as he averts his gaze upwards meeting Omar’s softened gaze. “I’m scared. I know you said that it was probably nothing but what if it is? What if it’s something serious.” Ander confesses in concern.

Omar sighs softly as he walks up to Ander. Wrapping his arms around Ander’s waist and pulling him into a tightened embrace, Omar rubs soothing circles against his boyfriend’s backside. His chin tucks on his shoulder.

“Hey, I know you’re scared. And you’re right: it _could_ be something or it could also be nothing. That’s why you need to go to the doctor so you can know for sure exactly what it is. If you want, I’ll go with you.” Omar suggests, wanting to provide his boyfriend with the necessary moral support.

But Ander shakes his head as he retracts away from the embrace. “You have to work tomorrow. I’ll be fine going alone.”

Ander assures him and Omar glares at him with apprehension. He didn’t want Ander going there by himself but eventually he relented, knowing that Ander was right. Besides, it probably would be less nerve wracking with Omar not being there. 

“Okay, if that’s what you want. But please make sure to call me afterwards to let me know what they say, yeah?” 

Ander nods as he pulls his lips in a faint smile. “Yeah.” 

“’Kay. Now can you please come back to bed?” Ander intwines his fingers within Omar’s, who puckers his lips and gently tugged Ander closer to him. He chuckled and pressed his mouth against Omar’s kissing him softly. When they retracted from the kiss, Ander trailed behind in tow as Omar lead them back into the bedroom. 

They each crawl into their respective sides of the bed then curled underneath the covers. Omar scooted over; chiseling his body flush up against Ander’s, tossing an arm across his shoulder. 

“You’re going to be okay.” _You_ _have_ _to_ _be_. Omar pecks another kiss against Ander’s mouth, the padding of his thumb stroked genially on the plush skin of his cheek. 

“I love you.” He whispers lowly, his eyes holding an unwavering gaze with Ander’s and never faltering as he expresses his words of sincerity. 

“I love you too.” Ander answers instantaneously, his words imbuing the same heartfelt affection. Omar smiles, softly, before laying his head down onto Ander’s chest. They remained there laying in a comfortable silence until they inevitably succumbed to their overwrought exhaustion. 

-

He’s perched at the table the next morning, mindlessly prodding his fork around the breakfast spread that his mom prepared. His mom, who was seated adjacent from him glanced up from her newspaper that she was reading and furrowed a confused frown at him. 

“Is my cooking that bad?” She asks, picking up her cup of black coffee and taking a small sip. She noticed that he wasn’t eating anything; usually he would’ve scarfed down at least 3 waffles, a few strips of bacon and french toast by now. But today, the only thing he did was take a quick sip of his orange juice. 

“No. I’m just not really hungry.” He vaguely explains, shrugging a shoulder as he pushes the plate full of food away from him. He hadn’t told his mom about the lump or the doctor’s appointment he scheduled for himself today after school. 

He didn’t want her to worry, especially considering that it’s a great possibility that it could be nothing at all. She’d already had so much going on at the moment; having to deal with the student’s abhorrence of Polo being acquitted of his murder charges and being back at school, and having to deal with the rancorous school board who was always hounding her about keeping the school afloat. 

It felt unfair for him to pile on another stressor for his mother. 

“What’s wrong, are you sick?” She placed the backside of her hand against his forehead, attempting to check his temperature. 

In all honesty, he did wake up feeling queasy and a little lightheaded but he just assumed that it was because he was nervous about the test so he quickly brushed those unsettling feelings away.

“No, ma. I’m okay.” He attempts to assure her by thinning his lips into a feeble smile. 

She nods slowly, eyebrows narrowing in a piqued glower as she heedily assesses him. “Okay. Where’s Omar? I didn’t hear him get up this morning.” She asks as she began to savagely consume her plate full of food. 

Ander rose to his feet, picking up his plate and his half empty cup of orange juice before walking over to the sink. “He had to be at work early today. They’re hosting a party for some rich guy there so his boss wants to make sure everything’s perfect for tonight.” He explains, discarding his plate full of food into the garbage can. 

“You need eat, Ander. You’re already so skinny.” 

“I know, ma.” Placing the remainder of his dishes in the sudsy dishwater, Ander walks into the living room to retrieve his bookbag that was absentmindedly strewn onto the floor. He slides his arm through the thin strap, shrugging the bag onto his back. He jogs back into the kitchen, crouching down a little bit so he could peck a kiss against his mother’s cheek.

“I’ll see you later.” With that, Ander quickly made his egress from the Muñoz household and began to walk down the street heading in the direction of his school. 

The doctor nodded as he scribbled down a few notes onto the piece of paper that was held onto his clipboard. “Alright, let’s take a look then. Could you pull your pants off for me?” 

Ander shimmied the pair of trousers down until they were wrapped around his ankles. The doctor walked over to him, informing him that he was about to feel around so that he could inspect the lump. Ander nods in understanding, and held a soft breath when he feels the warmth of the doctor’s large glove covered hand groping his girth. 

When the inspection is over, Dr. Kushnir removed the gloves and disposed them into the trash. Ander tugged his pants back over his hips. Dr. Kushnir walked over to the sink and washed his hands before sauntering back over to his desk. Ander plopped down in the seat athwart from him. 

“So, how long was that lump there again?” 

Ander shrugged as he nervously shifted in the chair. “I’m not sure. I was it while I was in the shower the other day.” He lied, a warm blush colors his cheeks. 

“Well, it’s a good thing that you came here. You can never be too careful about these things. What I’m going to do is run a few more thorough tests, then in a couple of days I’ll email you and you can come down here to receive your results.” 

“Thank you.” 

Doctor Kushnir smiles. “No problem. I’ll see you in a few days.” 

_Well_ , _that_ _wasn’t_ _entirely_ _bad_ , Ander inwardly mused as he walks back home. Of course he was well aware that he still had to wait for the results, but if it was something bad then surely the doctor would’ve told him right then; he thinks, upholding an optimistic belief. 

Maybe Omar was right. Maybe it was nothing. 


	2. Chapter 2

He closes the front door behind him as he enters inside of the abode, the saccharine smell of puffed pastries baking in the oven fills his senses and causes his mouth to salivate. 

Walking into the kitchen, he sees his mother and Omar standing at the counter, conversing amongst themselves and laughing heartily. Ander feels a mirthful smile settle upon his lips at the sight. He loved seeing the two most important people in his life getting along. At first, he worried that his mother would’ve been apprehensive about allowing Omar to seek refuge in their house. 

But she’d welcomed him into their house with open arms and treated him with the upmost kindness which Ander was eternally grateful for. It was nice that at least something in his life was going good at the moment sans any drama. 

Omar’s the first one to notice Ander’s presence. He glanced over at him, eyes dilated with curiosity as the smile that was previously waned on his lips, transitioned into a moue frown. 

“How’d the appointment go?” 

Upon hearing this, Azucena blinks a perplexed look of confusion at her son. “Appointment? An appointment for what?” She asks, averting her gaze between the two of them waiting for someone to respond to her inquiry. 

Ander gave Omar an expectant look, nonverbally letting him know that he hadn’t told his mother about his visit to the doctor yet. When Omar picks up on the innuendo, he winces in apology and smiled sheepishly at his boyfriend. 

“It’s nothing serious.” Ander insouciantly assures her, walking further into the room and perching down into one of the high stools that sat in front of the kitchen island. 

“Well, what was the doctor appointment for then?” Azucena further implores, folding her arms across her chest as she tilts a knowing head at her son, wanting to know the in depth details. 

Ander chanced a quick glare over at Omar who raised his eyebrows, wanting to know if he was about to lie or disclose the truth to his mother. Ander hesitantly faltered for a brief moment before answering, “I, uh, was feeling a little dizzy and lightheaded lately so I decided to make an appointment to make sure everything was okay,” He fibs through his teeth, guilt eats through him for lying so easily to his mother. 

Azucena nods, taking all of this new information in. “And? What did the doctor say?” 

“That he’ll email me in a few days so I can get my results. You don’t need to worry ma. I’m sure it’s nothing.” Ander says, reaching across the counter to grab ahold of her hand, giving it a small squeeze as he smiles softly at her. 

Azucena sighs softly and nods her head. “You’re probably right, but I’m your mother. It’s my job to worry.” She squeezes his hand back in response. “Next time, please let me know if there’s something wrong with you. I don’t if it’s a cough or the stomach flu. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

Ander nods. “I promise.” She pecks a kiss against his cheek for comfort. 

When she leaves the kitchen and saunters down the hall to her bedroom, Omar smacks him against the shoulder. 

“Ow,” Ander pouts, rubbing the maimed spot on his shoulder. “Why’d you hit me?”

“Because you’re lying to your mom. It doesn’t feel right not telling her the real reason you went to the doctor’s.” Omar laments somberly, frowning his lips in a distasteful pout. He didn’t like lying, especially to Azucena and especially about something as serious as finding a lump on Ander’s body. 

While Omar knew that it was ultimately Ander’s decision of whether he wanted to provide his mother with the truth or not, it still felt wrong lying to her and it left a sour feeling in his mouth of him knowing the truth while she was dutifully unaware of what was actually going on with her son. 

“I don’t want her to worry.” 

“Ander,” Omar sighs in exasperation. He understands where he’s coming from but he also knows that if it did happen to be something serious, that she should at least know. 

Ander clambers off of the stool and approached Omar. He wrapped his arms around Omar’s slender waist and tugged his body closer against his, chiseling their chests flush up against each other’s. 

“She’s already dealing with so much at the school with Polo being back. I don’t want her or you worrying over something that could possibly be nothing.” Ander congresses. “But, if it does happen to be something more serious, then I’ll tell her. Okay?” 

Omar contemplates for a second. While he despised having to keep Azucena out of the loop until Ander received his test results, he knew that at least they wouldn’t have to wait that long until they knew what was wrong. 

“Okay,” Omar murmurs somberly in agreement. 

“Thank you.” He says, craning his head downward a bit so that he could press a kiss against Omar’s pouty lips. When they retract from the embrace, Ander walks over to the oven and pulls out the deliciously baked pastries from the oven. He grabs ahold of one and bit into it, chewing softly on the cinnamon roll.

“Those are for the PTA meeting your mom’s holding for tonight!” Omar chastised, swatting Ander’s hand away. 

“Ouch. Do you have to keep hitting me?” 

\- 

They’re laying on the couch, cuddling while watching A Nightmare on Elm street. Omar’s fingers are softly mussling through his fluffy curls while Ander’s head rested atop of his lap. He’s laughing heartily at the sight of Omar jumping and yelping a freightened shriek as they watched the gory image of Freddy Krueger fleshing his razor-knifed finger into the heart of a young teenage girl who was sleeping peacefully. 

Omar shook his head and quickly shielded his eyes away from the television screen, unable to watch the grisly scene anymore. 

“How can you watch this stuff?” Omar asks, his eyes still shielded by his hands as he peeked through the open space of his fingers, only to quickly squeeze his eyes shut again after seeing the crimson blood spewing out of her body. He shuddered at the gruesome sight. 

“It’s not that scary, you big baby.” Ander teases, lifting his head from Omar’s lap. Ander props the weight of his upperbody onto his elbows as he glared up at Omar. He raffishly pokes his boyfriend in the side, “But if you get scared again, I’ll protect you.” 

“My own knight in shining armor, huh?” Omar ripostes, curling himself against Ander’s chest when Freddy Krueger appeared on screen again. 

“Cariño, can we _please_ watch something else?” It wasn’t that Omar was scared per se, he just really hated watching horror movies. He preferred classic movies, or musicals, movies that didn’t haunt his dreams at night. 

“The movie’s halfway over.” Ander rebuttals, much to the dismay of his boyfriend. He sat his body fully upright so that his back was now rested against the plush cushion of the couch. He reached forward and grabbed the half eaten bowl of buttered popcorn, scooping a large portion into his hand and shoveling it inside of his mouth. 

“Here, snuggle up under me so you won’t be as scared.” Ander says, extending his arm out just enough for Omar to chisel his boy against him.

Omar hurriedly scoots over preparing to burrow himself in the warmth of Ander’s chest when he suddenly falters in recoil. “Your nose is bleeding.” He retorts, prodding Ander in the shoulder to grasp his attention.

“Huh?” He questions, his eyes still cemented to the flat television screen. 

“Your nose. It’s bleeding.” Omar reiterates sullenly, his bushy eyebrows creases into a worried frown. 

Before Ander could even respond, he feels the warm liquid oozing from his nostrils and spilling into the creases of his parted mouth. The bittered taste of his blood sits on his tongue. 

“Fuck,” He murmurs, setting the bowl of popcorn aside before tilting his head back. Ander rises to his feet, Omar is in tow behind him, aiding him down the hallway and through the bathroom so they could clean him up. 

Omar’s dabbing a warm cloth under Ander’s nose, wiping away the smears of dried blood. “Has your nose ever bled like this before?” 

Ander shook his head. “Well, other than the times where I got hit in the face with tennis balls.” 

The frown on Omar’s face deepens. He pauses mid movement of wiping away the blood to glance down into Ander’s eyes. “What do you think caused it?” He wonders, to which Ander only shrugged his shoulders in retort. 

“Who knows.” 

“Aren’t you a little bit worried?” Omar was aghast to see how insouciant Ander seemed to be about this. He said that he hadn’t had a random nose bleed like this before, so there had to be a specific reason why it suddenly happened tonight. 

But Ander didn’t uphold any warrant into further delving into the reason for it. “It’s probably nothing.” Ander wiped away the remnants of the sticky blood before tossing the dirty wash cloth into the clothes hamper. He thoroughly washed his hands then dried them off. 

“Come on, let’s go finish the rest of the movie.” 

“Ander—” Omar began to reluctantly oblige, but Ander hastily interjected. 

“Stop worrying so much. It’s just a nosebleed. I promise.” 

Much to his avail, Omar followed Ander back into the living room to continue the duration of the movie. Ander was heedily in rapt with the homocidal tendencies of the vicious killer as he slaughtered his victims; but Omar however, wasn’t paying attention to the movie. All he could think about was Ander and how all these weird afflictions began to accrue recently. 

He just wishes the results of Ander’s test could come back sooner so he could stop worrying over whether or not Ander was okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is unedited (i’ll go back and fix any error later, i’m too lazy atm) but i’m currently on spring break so these chapters will possibly come out very quickly! i already have so many ideas of where i want this story to go and i’m excited to start writing it :) 
> 
> again, this is just the beginning. it’ll get very angsty and emotional really soon!


	3. Chapter 3

Ander’s facade in trying to placate a positive mindset had begun to take a weary toll on him. This morning, he woke up feeling nauseous and exasperated. His body felt completely spent, his head was throbbing in pain. 

Ander had made his egress for school early that morning, wanting to avoid his mother and Omar seeing him like this. He knew that their perturbed worried would only pique if they saw him; how his face was flushed of it’s normal pallor, how stagnant he was as he moved at a slow pace.

He debated on staying home today, but he knew that his mom and Omar would only insist that they stay home with him and they’d spend all day coddling him and attending to his needs. It’s not that he didn’t want that, Ander just didn’t want them worrying over him so much. Especially Omar. 

He’s sluggishly sauntering down the hallway of the school, heading towards his locker when he hears a clamorous commotion. Looking around, he sees Guzmàn toppled on top of Polo, his hands gripping the front of Polo’s shirt and he shouted vehement words of profanity at him. 

Guzmàn’s face is red as he continues to shout, spews of spit flicks from his mouth, his jaw incensely clenched as he wound his hands around the thick of Polo’s neck. 

Polo coughs, eyes widened with terror as he pleaded Guzmàn to stop. Ander hastily walked over towards them, mindlessly pushing through the crowd of bystanders that stood around watching. He steps over the cardboard display that they knocked over in the midst of their fight, stepping over the loose sheets of papers that scattered the floors as he crouched over and grabbed ahold of Guzmàn’s shoulders. 

“Guzmàn! Stop!” Ander hears the voice of Nadia loudly bellow. He glanced over his shoulder to see that she’s now standing beside him, attempting to pry Guzmàn off of Polo as well. 

“He can’t breathe. Get off, Gizmàn!” Ander shouts, pulling roughly at Guzmàn’s arms. This resulted into both of them tumbling backwards a bit. 

Guzmàn pushes Ander’s hands off of him as he slowly rises to his feet. His chest heaved in rapid breaths. At the sound of the loud commotion erupting, Azucena runs out of her office to detect the source of the problem. She looks between Guzmán and Polo, noticing that Polo was still laid out on the ground, his hand steadily rested on his neck as he tried to regain his evened breathing. 

“Are you okay, Polo?” 

Polo flicks his eyes over at Guzmán. He swallows thickly before eventually nodding his head. “Are you sure?” Azucena further pressed, her apprehensive gaze averted towards Guzmán again. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I fell, that’s all. But I’m okay now.” Polo lies, giving her a wary smile to further cement the fib. 

Azucena remained standing there for a brief moment, contemplating. She was well aware that he was lying, but she could tell by the desperate pleading look that he was currently giving her, that he didn’t want her to enforce any punishment on Guzmán. He was already having a hard time adjusting as is, his life would only be a living hell if he’d began to snitch in his friends. 

Sighing deeply, Azucena nods her head. “Okay. I’ll call the janitor to fix the display, everyone else get to class!” When the students began to disperse to their respective classes, Azucena walked over to Guzmán and whispered in his ear, “You got off the hook for today. But remember what I said. If I see you harassing him again, I won’t hesitate to expel you.” 

Guzmàn rolled his eyes at her meaningless threat before walking over to where Nadia and Ander were helping Polo to his feet.

He scoffed and shook his head. “It’s not enough that you lied to me about knowing what he did, now you’re feeling sorry and helping him? What, you guys are friends again?” He accuses at Ander, to which Ander only rolls his eyes in response. 

When Polo’s standing steadily on his feet, Ander saunters away walking back to his intended destination towards his locker. He could hear the sound of Guzmàn’s gait as he followed behind. 

“I should’ve known you’d be the first one to forgive that fucking psychopath.” Guzmán spat angrily, shoving Ander against the shoulder causing him to slightly stumble forward.

“I didn’t forgive him, okay? You heard what my mom said: anyone who touches him gets expelled. He’s not worth it. There’s other ways for him getting what he deserves. This, what you’re doing isn’t it.” 

Guzmàn kisses his teeth with his tongue as he folds his arms across his chest, tilting a head at Ander. “And what way is that exactly, huh? Because the fucking police haven’t done shit except let him go.” He rebuttals, his words are sharp with abhorrence. 

“I–” The sound of a incoming notification chirping on his phone interjects him mid-sentence. Digging inside of the pants pocket, he pulls out his cellphone and unlocks it to see that he has an email from the doctor informing him that the results of his test had come in. Ander gasps softly as he feels his heart beat suddenly thrashing against his chest. 

“I have to go,” He murmurs, stuffing his phone back into his pockets as he walks over to his locker to place his books inside. 

“What? Hey, no! We need to talk. You want a better way for Polo to get what he deserves, then you talk to the judge too. If he hears your testimony about how Polo told you then maybe—” 

Ander closes his locker shut. He shrugs his arms through the straps of his bag again before sullenly shaking his head. “I’m sorry. Now isn’t the time to talk about this. I’m dealing with a lot of shit right now and—”

Guzmàn scoffs at Ander’s excuse. He shakes his head, callously ripostes, “You know what, fuck you then.” Before turning away to walk off. 

Ander sighs in defeat, guilt throngs throughout him. He wanted to repair his tainted friendship with his former best friend, but he had to go down to the doctor’s office to get his results. This was important. He needed to know why there was a lump on his groin and why he felt weak and sluggish. 

I’ll talk to Guzmàn later, Ander inwardly muses. 

He had no intention of waiting ’til the end of the day to retrieve his results. So, he decided to skip the rest of his classes. He was too anxious to wait. 

-

His leg bounced nervously while he sat in the waiting area, anxiously waiting for his name to be called. He taps his finger against his thigh, numbly chewing on his bottom lip as he looked upward at the round clock perched on the wall, watching the hands move as the seconds ticked by.

“Ander Muñoz?” His head turns at the sound of his name being called. Looking up, he sees that it’s the same nurse from his previous visit. She smiles, informing him that the doctor was already in the back waiting for him.

He murmurs a thanks as he rises to his feet and began to walk down the long corridor towards Doctor Kushnir’s office.

Ander’s worries began to accrue rapidly when he walked into the room to see Dr. Kushnir sitting behind his desk with a somber, sympathetic countenance marring his face. He gestures a hand towards the empty seat across from him, asking Ander to sit down.

Ander slowly sinks into the chair, his eyes looking intently at Dr. Kushnir’s trying to gauge his reaction. He swallows thickly, shifting nervously in his seat. “Well?”

Dr. Kushnir reached inside of his desk cabinet and pulled out a pamphlet, extending it out to Ander. “We ran your tests, turns out that you have what’s called Acute lymphocytic leukemia. It’s a fast-growing cancer. That means we have to be even faster. We’ll start chemo this week.”

Ander’s eyes heedily read over the printed words of the pamphlet. “What’s chemo?”

“It’s just a treatment to kill the fast growing cells in your body to try to reduce the symptoms. Luckily, we discovered your cancer early which means that we can get on this right away. Now, I’ve set a time for us to begin—” He flipped through the calendar on his desk, searching for the stated time. “Ah, Saturday at 8AM. It’ll be two six week cycles, but if I’m being honest they’ll feel longer than that.”

Ander feels a lump closing at the apex of his throat, his chest tightens, vision begins to fog as unshed tears glisten in his eyes.

“—with such intensive treatment, the side effects will also be intense. It’s all in the brochure but I’m telling you now, it will be difficult to prevent fatigue, nausea, vomiting, dizziness and also nerve pain in the joints. You won’t feel like eating, going out, or doing much of anything. And yes, there’s a high probability of your hair falling out. Over the next few months...”

The sound of Dr. Kushnir’s words as he continued to speak slowly faded out. Ander could no longer maintain focus on anything. His mind felt hazy, stuck. He knew there was something wrong; but the last thing he’d ever assume was the cause of all of this would be cancer.

He couldn’t think.

He felt like his whole world had suddenly came crashing down on him. He felt sick. Felt like he was going to puke all over Doctor Kushnir’s desk. Ander inhaled a shaky breath before swallowing the lump that formed in the hollow of his throat. He tightly squeezes his eyes shut, inwardly hoping, praying that this was all somehow a bad dream.

Ander’s retracted from his reverie when he feels Dr. Kushnir gently placing his hand on top of his, “Ander.”

Slowly prying his dewy eyes open, Ander sniffled lightly as he looked at the man seated across from him.

“Dealing with this is a lot for anyone to handle alone. Many patients find that getting through this is less frightening when you’re surrounded by your loved ones. If there’s anyone in your life that cares about you, you should tell them. You don’t need to go through this alone.” He adamantly asserts, looking intently at the terrified teenager sitting across from him.

Ander purses his lips together and nods his head. Using the back of his hand to wipe away the remnats of the tears that stained his face, Ander sniffled again before saying, “Yeah. You’re right. I’m going to tell my family as soon as I get home.”

“That’s good to hear. Oh, here’s some more pamphlets that you can give to them. It has all the information on there about the cancer you have and the process of how your chemo’s gonna go. I also wrote my number down on them just in case you or anyone in your family has any questions for me. Don’t hesitate to call, okay?” Dr. Kushnir asks, handing Ander the extra set of pamphlets.

“Yeah, sure. No problem. Thanks again.” After he retrieves the papers, Ander scoots the chair back and clambers to his feet.

“I’ll see you on Saturday, Ander.” Ander smiles weakly and nods his head as he brings his hand up mid-air and gestures a goodbye wave. As soon as he exited from the office, heavy sobs wrecked his body.

Salty tears spilled from his heavy eyes, as he leaned against the wall, trying to steady his weakened balance. Ander’s body shook violently as the choked up tears wailed out of him. He stood there bawling his eyes out for what seemed to be an eternity.

When he finally left the doctor’s office, he had no intentions of going straight home. They would know something was wrong the moment he stepped into the door with his puffy, red eyes. Besides, he needed time alone right now to think and try to grasp his new harsh reality.

Ander decided to walk the streets of the city, the conversation with Dr. Kushnir wandered effortlessly around in his mind taunting him.

 _Cancer. Nausea. Vomiting. Chemo._ None of it seemed real. It all just seemed like on bad fucking nightmare that he desperately wanted to wake up from. But he couldn’t because it wasn’t a nightmare.

It was his new, very shitty life.

Inside of his pocket, his phone vibrates against his thigh, retracting him from his thoughts. Unlocking it, he sees it’s two messages from Omar. Ander feels his heart sullenly shatter upon seeing his boyfriend’s name flashing across his screen.

He doesn’t need to read the messages to know that Omar was probably asking where he was and if he was okay. Ander had been out for hours now, sulking around the city, trying to avoid going home as much as possible. He didn’t want to face his mom and Omar. He didn’t want to see the heartbreaking reactions, or see their eyes fill with tears when he tells them that he has leukemia.

But Ander knew he could only avoid going home for so long. His deft fingers swiftly glide across his screen as he sends Omar a responding text, telling him that he was on the way back home.

“Ander!” Ander hears Omar cry in relief as he solemnly sauntered through the front door.

Omar rises off of the couch and hurriedly walks up to him, nearly tumbling Ander over as he wound his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Glancing over Ander’s shoulders he sees his mother walking from the kitchen, into the living room where they were standing.

“I’m okay,” Ander says, already knowing that they were about to bombard him with a plethora of questions on his whereabouts this evening. He squeezes Omar’s body tightly, rubbing his hand against his boyfriend’s backside. “I went to get my results from the doctor and I took a walk afterwards.”

Omar gasped as he pulled away slightly so that he could look at Ander. “And? What did the doctor say?”

Ander parted his mouth open, his eyes averted back and forth between his mother’s and Omar’s wide eyes. He sighs, pulling his lips into a faint smile, “He said that it was just a health scare.” He lied, his smile faltering as the knowing guilt began to eat at him.

Both Omar and Ander’s mother sigh in relief. Azucena walks up to them and pecks a kiss against her son’s cheek. “Thank god!”

“I was so worried that it was something serious. What did he say about the lump? Why was it there?” Omar questioned, the inquiry caused Ander to slightly falter.

“Oh, uh, it was just an allergic reaction I had to that new body wash you bought me. He said that the swelling should go down in a few days and that I have absolutely nothing to worry about.” Ander assures them, he leans forward to pamper a kiss against Omar’s mouth.

“You don’t know how happy we are to hear you say that.” Azucena interjects, caressing her hand fondly against his cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do if something ever happened to you.”

“Me either.” Omar whispers, pecking Ander’s lips thrice more.

Azucena smiled in adoration as she watched the two of them. She squeezes Ander’s arm in comfort before turning around to head back into the kitchen, “Dinner’s almost ready. Why don’t you two go get cleaned up?”

When she disappeared into the kitchen, Omar turned back to Ander and looked at him with a softened gaze. “You okay? You seem a little down.”

Of course Omar would notice that he wasn’t being completely honest. Ander knows in this moment that he should tell him the truth, he wants too, the words sit right on the tip of his tongue. But he refutes. He didn’t want this burden on either one of them. This was something that he had to deal with alone. He’d eventually tell his mom as soon as it begins to get worse, but he couldn’t put this on Omar and make him think that he had to devote his life in taking care of him. It wouldn’t be fair.

Omar had already lost most of his life due to being constricted, sitting behind a counter all day in a stuffy corner store because of his father, Ander didn’t want to be the one who made Omar feel restricted in being able to live his life again just because of this sickness.

“Yeah. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all. I’m gonna go wash my hands I’ll meet you in the dining room, okay?”

“Okay.” With another peck against Omar’s lips, Ander walked off in the direction of the downstairs bathroom. He closed and locked the door behind him. Ander steadied his shaky inhalations as he propped his body against the door.

Lying to them was going to be much harder than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i decided to keep ander not telling his mom or omar about his leukemia as a secret in this story only because it’s gonna add on to the angst that i have coming for them in future chapters.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m backkkkk

Ander inhaled a shaky breath as he feels the invigorating warmth of Omar’s plumped, pink, prim bow lips, softly envelope around his cock. Omar holds his boyfriends steady, unwavering gaze, heeding in Ander’s carnal facial expressions as he darts his wet tongue out and teasingly lapped it around the gorged flesh of Ander’s dick. 

Omar moans softly, humming in contentment as the salted taste of Ander’s milky precum sits on his tongue. Ander’s hips lurch forward in a fluid careening motion, “Fuck,” He chides exasperatedly, sighing deeply as his head falls backward against the plush mattress of the bed. 

He murmured another inward profanity, biting roughly on his bottom lip when he felt Omar’s slightly callused hands fondling with his balls; roughly squeezing them. He opened his eyes, blinking hazily as he propped the weight of his body onto his elbows and averted his gaze downward. Omar’s lips curled upward in an coquettish smirk, droplets of his thick saliva spilled from his mouth and slid down his chin. 

“Omar.” Ander calls softly. Usually, he would’ve been deeply engrossed in the oral sexual pleasure that his boyfriend was giving him but today he felt too tired to fully enjoy the feeling of Omar sucking his cock. 

After enduring a treacherous day at school, where he had to deal with the relentless drama between Guzmán and Polo, and having to continue throughout the remainder of the day feeling nauseous and completely fatigued, Ander was just in no mood of partaking in any salacious trysts right now. 

“Babe, hey.” Ander reiterates, slightly nudging Omar against the shoulder in order to grasp his attention. At this, Omar glanced up at Ander, the skin between his eyebrows crinkle into a confused furrow as he releases Ander’s cock from his mouth with a soft ‘ _pop_ ’ Omar tilted a curious head at him. 

“What’s wrong? Am I sucking too hard?” 

“No,” Ander laments as he shakes his head. “We should stop. I’m kinda tired.” He simply answers, before shimmying his shorts and boxer briefs that were pooled around his ankles, back over his slender hips.

Feeling his head beginning to throb in pain, Ander decides to lay down. He sprawls his body onto the bed and propped a fluffy pillow underneath his head.He feels the bed dip as Omar sits down next to him.

“What’s going on?” Omar suddenly asks. His voice is timid and just above a shy whisper. 

“Huh?” Ander murmurs, completely oblivious to what his boyfriend was referring to. 

“What’s going on?” Omar reiterated his inquiry again. He shifts his body so that he’s now facing Ander, “This past week you’ve been acting distant. We don’t go out anymore, all we do is sit in the house all day. You barely touch me anymore, and whenever I try to touch you you’re always tired or not in the mood. It’s me, isn’t it? You’re tired of me.” He accuses, his eyes down casting in melancholy as his shoulders sag in sheer despair. 

Ander’s head lifts at Omar’s incredulous accusations. He flips over, meeting Omar’s gaze as he reached down and grabbed ahold of his hand. “I’d never be tired of you. You know I love having you here with me, Omar.” He says, softly caressing his thumb against the skin on Omar’s knuckles. 

“Then why have you been acting so distant?” 

Ander falters slightly at this inquiry. He couldn’t reveal the truth about why he has been acting so aloof towards Omar that his body was too weak to partake in any social activities that he used to enjoy because of the cancer and that he was saving up all his energy for the first chemo session he had coming up on Saturday. 

Ander hates that his caution in trying to keep Omar away from knowing the truth of this burden made it appear as if he was neglecting him and their relationship, because he wasn’t. 

“I’m not—”

“Yes you are!” Omar scoffs in rebuttal, tugging his hand away from Ander’s grasp. “Just tell me the truth: do you want me to leave is that it? You’re tired of being around me all the time.” 

“No one said that, cariño.” Ander sighs, massaging his temples as he feels his headache beginning to impede.

“But you’re thinking it. That’s why you’ve been acting so weird lately.” Omar abhorrently rebuttals, causing Ander to wearily shake his head and throw his hands in the air in defeat. 

“Is all this because I didn’t want you to suck my dick? God, Omar! I told you I’ve just been tired that’s all. No one’s asking you to leave, no one’s tired of you. But if you’re thinking that way, then feel free to leave whenever you want.” Ander ripostes angrily.

Of course he harbored no actual truth in his words of wanting Omar to leave, but he had started to grow angry over Omar’s redundant accusations of him not caring about their relationship anymore. Ander desired nothing more for a chance to return to his life prior to discovering the truth about his illness, of course he wanted to go out with his friends and do things with his boyfriend other than sitting cuddled up on the couch all day watching Netflix.

But he couldn’t his body was too exasperated and spent to partake in those activities. He was barely making it through the duration of his school days; struggling to even walk down the halls to each of his classes. The cancer was already physically over straining him and he hadn’t even began chemo yet.

Ander hated this just as much as Omar did and yeah, he knows that part of Omar’s argument is justifiable because he was unaware of what was going on with him health wise, but it was still felt unfair for him to pointedly come to that abrupt conclusion about Ander not wanting to be with him anymore. Especially when Omar’s the reason why he’s doing all this lying and sneaking around so he wouldn’t have to spend his time taking care of Ander.

He didn’t want Omar to leave nor did he obtain the energy to continue this foolish argument with him right now. He just wanted all of this to stop. He wanted the erratic throbbing of his headache to stop.

But Omar of course, was relentless in his arguing. He stood to his feet and stared at Ander, glistening tears sheened in his tawny brown eyes, his sniffles are light as he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “So it is true. You do want me to leave then.”

Ander rolls his eyes and sighs deeply as he palms his hands over his face in defeat. While he wanted to say no, he began to inwardly think that maybe this was the best way to keep Omar away. Ander wouldn’t have to worry about Omar finding out about the cancer or have him constantly worrying over him.

The doctor did say that it would get noticeable within a few weeks; maybe this was the solution in preventing Omar from learning the truth. It would be hard pushing Omar away like this, especially now when Ander really needs comforting the most but it was for the best.

Omar was already expressing his unhappiness about constantly being huddled up in the house and talking about the opportunities they’ve been missing out on by staying in the house all of the time. This way, Omar wouldn’t have to be deprived of fun simply because of Ander. Ander runs a weary hand down his face. Letting Omar go was about to be one of the hardest things he’d ever have to do, but deep down he knew it was for the best for both of them.

He averts his eyes back up at Omar and meets his gaze; Ander heart sullenly shatters upon seeing Omar’s tear-stained face and his trembling bottom lip. Omar looked so vulnerable and sad, and all Ander wanted to do right now was to make all of that pain go away. Inhaling a sharp breath, Ander clenches his jaw in recoil as he quickly diverts his eyes away, finding it too painful to look at Omar’s sad eyes any longer.

“Ander,” Omar says, the tenor of his voice is shaky and trembling on the precipice of tears.

Ander shakes his head, refusing to look at Omar. “You’re right. I don’t want you here any more. Letting you move in here was a mistake. We barely know each other. We met on a dating app, hooked up a few times and now you’re suddenly living with me?!” He relents, pausing momentarily to swallow the thick lump that enclosed at the apex of his throat. He squeezes his eyes close, fighting the tears that were building up.

“You should go.” He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know that the tears were now spilling from Omar’s eyes. Ander could hear him gasping shaky breaths of air. Ander purses his lips and quickly turns away before Omar could get a view of hot tears spilling from his eyes. He laid his head back on the pillow and started vacantly at the wall, trying to steady his labored inhalations.

“So, that’s it? You’re just going to give up on our relationship that easily after everything we’ve been through? I love you, Ander. I want to make this work, I-I don’t understand why you’re suddenly feeling this way. I thought things between us were good.” Ander tucks his quivering lower lip in between the tight grasp of his teeth to keep it from trembling. His heart breaks as he hears Omar’s pleading words.

He exhaled deeply, quickly swiping away the remnants of his tears with the back of his hand before he sits up. He turns back around to fully face Omar again.

“Well, you thought wrong. I have more important shit going on in my life that I need to worry about right now. You want to party and fuck all day like stupid teenagers do, right?” He snarls, recalling Omar’s arguing words that he stated earlier.

“That’s not what I meant—” Omar begins to explain but is hastily interjected by Ander’s sniding words of rebuttal.

“But you’re right. Being with me is only holding you back so now you’re free to do and fuck anyone that you please. You can stay a few extra nights until you can find somewhere to stay but the sooner you’re gone the better.” He turns away again as he lays down, curling his body inward in the fetal position.

This time, he doesn’t even try to deny the fact that he’s crying. He sobs quietly, his body trembles as the tears careens through him. He hears Omar mutter, _‘fucking asshole’_ under his breath before walking off.

 _It was the right thing to do_ , Ander repeatedly litanies to himself for reassurance as he laid there in bed with puffy red eyes and a tear stained face. He had to break up with Omar. His chemo was staring this weekend, his primary focus needed to be on getting better not about how he was ruining Omar’s life by making him be sheltered in the house with him all day. This was what was best for both of them; albeit it hurt Ander deeply saying those hurtful words of aggression and downplaying their relationship to meaningless salacious hookups, Ander knew that it was the only thing to say to keep Omar away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a whole lot of angst :( but again, this only helps push forward the plot of this story so bear with me.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been three days since their breakup. Three relentless days of him sobbing and drowning in his tears as he laid underneath his blankets, curled into a fetal position as he tightly clutched the pillow that Omar used to sleep on, against his chest. 

It smelled heavily of Omar’s familiarizing scent; Irish Spring soap with a mix of cologne. Choked up tears clogged in the apex of his heavy throat threatening to spill over every time Ander reminisced on their fight, how he so desperately wished he could’ve walked up to Omar and kissed him and tell him that it was all a big mistake, that he didn’t want to break up. That he needed him so fucking badly right now. 

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. 

Omar had been sleeping in the living room on the couch for the past few days. When Azucena was walking to the kitchen one day, she spotted him sprawled out on the small sofa, his long limbs hanging off the edge of the sofa as he laid in an uncomfortable position. She’d asked Ander later that day why Omar was on the couch instead of the comfortable bed with him. He informed her that they had broken up and that he was looking for a new place.

Azucena was saddened by the news because as the time since he moved in progressed, she developed a maternal relationship with Omar and had grown quite fond of him. When she began to further prod her son about the details of why they decided to break up, Ander clenched his jaw as he felt the hot tears welding in the back of his eyes. He stammered some pathetic excuse about them needing space away from each other then quickly scurried off, sullenly trudging his way back upstairs into his bedroom where he sprawled out on the bed and cried into his pillow again. 

He feels pathetic, crying and acting so mopey when he’s the one that initiated the breakup between them. But it what was best for them. His first day of chemo was tomorrow and he knows that from this point forward, his body was going to start deteriorating, he was going to be fatigued, physically and emotionally drained from all the tests — that’s just something he didn’t want Omar to feel obligated to be apart of. 

A minuscule part of him inwardly hoped that Omar wouldn’t harbor any malice towards him and that he would stay at the Muñoz house, ignoring what Ander had angrily shouted at him. But of course he had been clinging on to false hope. Not only was Omar (rightfully) mad at him, he was also blatantly ignoring Ander. 

Whenever they would enter the same room, or if they were all seated at the dinner table, Omar would purposefully ignore Ander’s presence and continue with his conversation with Azucena as if Ander wasn’t there. Omar hasn’t even looked at him once since the breakup. Ander tried to ignore the pained feeling that ripped through his heart every time he looked at Omar but it was getting harder to avoid. 

It fuckin’ hurts not be able to hold, cuddle or kiss Omar anymore. What hurts even more is that Omar appeared to be unaffected by the breakup. He upheld a insouciant demeanor about it, gingerly brushed the subject matter off whenever Azucena brought it up. 

Ander tried, he tried so hard not to break down in tears in that moment. How could Omar be this okay after everything while he was struggling to even make it out of bed in the morning? As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, Ander soon learned that Omar had already found a flat to live in. 

He was eavesdropping in on his mother and Omar’s conversation one afternoon after hearing the quiet tenors of their voices coming from the kitchen. 

“I found a one bedroom place not too far from here. It’s small but it’ll do for now until I can save enough for something bigger,” Ander had heard Omar say, he leans forward a bit slightly peering his head around the corner to look in the kitchen. 

Omar’s back is facing him as he hovered over the stove, he’s assisting Azucena as she prepares dinner. 

“Really, so soon? Aw, I wish you weren’t leaving. I enjoyed having you here, Omar.” Azucena laments, squeezing a reaffirming hand on his shoulder as she gives him a small smile. 

Omar mimicked the amicable smile. When he turns around to lean his body against the countertop, Ander quickly ducks his head out of sight. 

Omar released an exasperated, prolonged sigh as he folds his arms across his chest. “Yeah, seems like you’re the only one.” He murmured lowly; but it was loud enough for both Azucena and Ander to hear. 

Azucena looked at him sympathetically, already knowing that the drama between him and her son was still fresh. She vied to stay out of it and allow them to resolve whatever issues still resided amongst them, but it appeared as if they opted to ignore each other’s presence rather than speak to one another. 

She still wasn’t fully aware of all the details but from what she saw it seemed as if the breakup wasn’t mutually concluded as Ander said it was. There were times where she’d see Omar crying softly to himself as he sat outside on the patio. And Ander, there were days where she had to drag him out of bed just so he wouldn’t lay there all day sulking in his misery. 

She wanted so badly to interfere and get to the bottom of whatever the hell was going on between them, but she relented, knowing that she had to allow them to work on their problems as young adults instead. 

“Honey,” She begins softly, wiping her hands onto the dish cloth before turning to face him. “Ander, he’s always been one to shelter his emotions. But he cares about you a lot, okay? Whatever happened with you two, just give him a little time to come around. I’m sure he’ll come to his senses.”

Omar exhaled another deep sigh. He shakes his head, chuckling dryly as he implements, “I’ve tried. But all he does is constantly push me away. He keeps secrets and lies and—” He pauses momentarily, slightly faltering as his shoulders sagged solemnly. Ander feels a nervous breath catch at the apex of his throat as he stood there anxiously waiting to hear what Omar was about to say next. 

His heart plummeted out of his chest, felt like it was ripped right out of his body when he heard Omar’s shaky voice say: “I don’t know how much longer I can sit around waiting for someone who can’t even be honest with me.” 

Ander squeezes his eyes shut and leans his body against the wall to steady himself.

He knows that Omar is right; distancing himself and pushing people away was Ander’s defense mechanism. He’d tried so hard to keep Omar away from knowing the truth about his cancer so that it wouldn’t prevent him from living his life. He foolishly thought that he was helping Omar by keeping this secret discreet. But just like always, Ander was completely wrong. 

Ander didn’t stay around long enough to hear the remainder of their conversation. Instead he somberly sauntered to the small flight of stairs up to his room and fell into the bed with a sigh. How did he always manage to fuck things up even when his intentions are good? 

— 

He blinks groggily, stirring a bit and squinting his eyes as the morning sun’s harsh luminescence shone through the thin curtains of his windows and transcended a soft ethereal glow into his bedroom. He yawns softly, his back arching a bit as he stretches his wilt limbs. Scrubbing a hand over his heavy, bleary eyelids, Ander glanced down and noticed that he was still dressed in his school uniform. 

He had cried himself to sleep. _Again_. Sighing loudly in defeat, he slowly rises to his feet, loosening the tie around his neck and undoing the buttons on his shirt. He shrugs of the clothes, tossing them into the dirty hamper as he walks into the bathroom. 

He turned the shower on and stepped into the tub, allowing the balmy water to drench his sticky skin. He lathered his body, scrubbing away all the dirt that clogged underneath his skin. 

He stepped out of the fog steamed bathroom twenty minutes later; a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, while another one was being used to dry his damp hair. Walking back into his bedroom, Ander falters, halting mid-stride when he sees Omar. He’s crouched down, retrieving some of his clothes that he had previously moved in Ander’s drawers awhile ago. 

He was so busy stuffing the clothes inside of a duffel bag that he hadn’t noticed Ander standing behind him. Ander nervously bit at his lower lip, contemplating if he should say something. 

But before he could even part his mouth to speak, Omar was already standing to his feet, sliding his arms through the strap of the duffel bag. He jumped, slightly startled by Ander’s looming presence. “Oh!” He placed a hand over his chest, trying to subdue the erratic thudding of his heartbeat. 

“Sorry, I’ll be out in a minute. I just came for the rest of my things.” He informs Ander. Omar maneuvers around him, their shoulders brushing lightly against each other’s as Omar walks towards the closet. 

Ander furrows his eyebrows in a confused frown, “What? I thought you weren’t moving into your new place until next week?” He worriedly asks, his cheeks flushed in chagrin when Omar glared a pondering look at him, curious to know how he knew the details of his arrangement when he hadn’t even told him yet. 

Ander sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, I am but Samuel’s letting me stay with him for a bit.” Omar answered as he rummaged through the closets, retrieving his long-sleeved flannel shirts and jackets that he had hanging up. 

Ander’s frown deepened. “Why are you staying there? I told you to stay as long as you needed.” 

Omar scoffed incredulously at Ander’s remark. He glanced over his shoulder, raising a challenging brow. “Really? Because I remember you telling me the sooner I leave the better. That’s what I’m doing.” He recalls Ander’s previous words of rebuttal. Sarcasm and abhor lilt heavily in his voice. 

And all Ander could do in that moment was tightly purse his lips together because Omar was right.

Sighing softly in defeat, Ander disposed of the damp towel that he was using to dry his hair into the dirty hamper. He then began to scrub his body dry with the towel that was snugged around his waist. When his body was completely dry, he tossed the towel aside and walked over to his dresser to retrieve a pair of boxer briefs. He tugged the pair of grey underwear over his slender hips. 

Ander could feel the smothering warmth of Omar’s lingering scrutiny watching him while he continued to get dressed. When he turns around, Omar’s staring at him with a narrowed expression, his bushy eyebrows are creased in a thinned frown. 

“What?” 

Omar shook his head and dismissively waved him off. He snatches the last jacket that he had hanging up in the closet and mindlessly shoved it inside of the bag. “Have a nice life, Ander.” He spat vehemently, brushing past him as he made his egress. 

Ander stood there baffled and perplexed, unsure of what had just happened. 

-

He’s anxiously shaking his leg, eyes curiously wandering around the room, glancing at all of the posters that were strewn about on the pale walls. He nibbled softly in his bottom lip, nervously wiping his sweaty hands into the fabric of his jeans. His body tenses when he sees a patient sluggishly walking back into the room, her face was flushed from its normal pallor, bags adorned underneath her eyelids, her head was completely buzzed cut. 

Ander swallowed thickly as he glanced around at all the other patients who looked equally as bad as she did. His mind began to wander if he too would be looking as ill and frail as them when he begins his chemo. 

“You won’t, well it depends. It’s mostly just the hair that makes people look sicker. You have a nice head full of hair but I’m sure you’ll look good without it too.” Someone says, the sound of their voice interrupts his thoughts. 

Ander looks at the guy seated next to him. The guy smiled amicably as he brings his hand up mid-air and waves. 

“Sorry, you looked like you were freaking out. I’m Alexis.” 

“Ander.” He introduced, giving the guy a greeting nod. He shifts nervously in the chair as he looked around the room again. He leaned forward and whispered, “Does chemo really make you look like _that_?” He asked, frowning at the thought of him looking so pale and sickly. 

He knew that Doctor Kushnir said it would get noticeable, but he didn’t think it would be this bad. 

Alexis shrugged, “Eh, usually. People always say if you take care of yourself then you won’t but like, you’re always tired you know? You don’t have the energy to fucking exercise and do all of that self care bullshit. But it’s not so bad. You get a lot of free stuff when people learn that you have cancer. Last week, my physics teacher gave me a free pass on my exam because the time I had to take it was the same time as one of my chemo sessions. She felt bad about it and just said she’d give me the grade.”

Ander smiles slightly, nodding his head. He didn’t understand how this guy was so upbeat while he was so sick. Ander hadn’t even began his chemotherapy session yet and it already felt like his entire life was ending. 

“No family?” Alexis asks, his voice retracts Ander from his thoughts again. 

“Uh, no. They were busy.” He shrugged, the lie easily rolls off of his tongue. 

Alexis glared at Ander in bewilderment, aghast by his confession. “Too busy to come to your chemo session? Woah, that’s kinda fucked up. You’re going to need someone here with you. These things can get very exhausting. You’re going to feel to weak to even walk by yourself after a while. It’s better when you have someone with you. It makes it less suckier.” 

“So I’ve been told.” Ander inwardly murmurs, sighing deeply as he falls back into the seat while he continued to wait for his name to be called. He digs into the pockets of his jeans and pulls out his phone. Unlocking it, he goes to his contact list and scrolls through it until he reaches the ‘O’s. His finger hovered over Omar’s name in apprehension. 

_No_ , _I_ _can’t_. He sighs. Instead he pulls out his headphones, tucks them each into one of his ears as the soft hymn of music began to play. 


	6. Chapter 6

He’s standing behind the counter, the loud timbre of pop music playing through the speakers ricochets throughout the room, the stench of sweat and alcohol lurks in the air. He’s glancing down at the screen of his phone, his thumb apprehensively hovering over the call symbol on Ander’s contact name. 

He’d been reluctantly contemplating on whether to call his boyfriend all night. Albeit they had broken up, Omar still worried greatly about Ander.

It was obvious that Ander was going through something and Omar wanted to be there to help him get through it. But like always, Ander was pushing him away and keeping secrets from him again. He was beginning to grow weary of dealing with Ander’s constant cycle of pushing the people who cared most about him away whenever things got a little tough. 

Omar desperately wanted to help his boyfriend, he just didn’t know how. He didn’t understand why Ander always felt as if he couldn’t open up to him about the problems he’s facing instead of keeping them all bottled in deeply inside of him. 

Omar was beginning to worry because Ander’s behavior was starting to resemble the way he acted when Polo revealed his secret of killing Marina; the lying, the pushing everyone in his life away, keeping secrets it was all too familiar. He didn’t want his boyfriend to steer down that dark path again. He never wanted to see Ander like that again. 

He doesn’t care that Ander had broken up with him and told him to leave, Omar was determined to help him with whatever he was going through. 

“Hey.” Retracting him from his reverie, Omar tucks his phone away into his back pocket as he looked up at his sister. 

She smiled at him as she sat onto the stool. Her smile quickly diminished and was soon replaced by a worried frown when she noticed how upset her older bother looked. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He realized that he hadn’t told Nadia about him moving out or the breakup with Ander. He was in no mood of delving into the details about their breakup either, so he gave her a vague response of: “It’s Ander. He’s acting different again.” He sullenly admits, sighing exasperatedly as he leans forward, resting his elbows onto the surface of the counter. 

“Different how?” Nadia further curiously implored.

“Pushing me away, keeping things from me,” Omar began to list off. He shrugged his shoulders before resting his face against the palm of his hands. “I don’t know what to do either because he won’t talk to me about it. Hell, I don’t even know what ‘it’ is.” 

Nadia’s heart ached sympathetically for her brother. She knew how much he cared about Ander and how over the short period that they’ve known each other, how he’d started to love Ander as well. Whenever she would witness they affection the two of them shared whenever she was around them, she would find herself fawning over how adorable they were. 

She had never seen her brother so happy the way he is whenever he’s with Ander. So, it made her sad to hear that they were dealing with afflictions in their relationship. 

Nadia hadn’t known Ander that long, but she’d grown to view him as a pseudo brother to her. She cared about both of them deeply and while she didn’t know exactly what was going on between them, she inwardly hoped that they could prevail through it together. 

Reaching her hand over the counter, Nadia gently placed it on top of his. She squeezed his hand with a soft reassurance. 

“You guys’ll be okay. I know you will. I know it’s hard but maybe there’s a reason that he’s pushing you away. I know he wouldn’t do it purposefully. There’s something going on with him that maybe he isn’t ready to talk to you about. And it sucks but sometimes you have to respect people’s space. Give him time to open up, he’ll come around.” 

Omar stood there quietly processing his sister’s words. He knows she’s right; after everything that occurred with the Polo situation both he and Ander agreed that they would be honest with each other and communicate better about their problems. And they did for a while, so he knows that this sudden shift in Ander’s behavior had to be because of something much more serious. 

But Omar doesn’t think he can just wait around for Ander to express his feelings when it’s too late like the last time. No, he had to figure out what was going on soon. Maybe he could talk to Azucena. She probably noticed how different he’s acting as well. 

“Thank you.” He says to Nadia, who scrunches her face up in confusion. She tilts her head to the side. 

“For what?” 

Omar smiles as he leaned over and pecked a kiss against her cheek. “For always listening to my boy problems and giving me advice whenever I need it. You’re like my relationship counselor and therapist all in one.” He jokes. 

Nadia playfully rolls her eyes and insouciantly waved him off. “We’re siblings. We’re supposed to go to each other for dating advice. Besides, I know you’re going to do the same for Malick and I.” 

“Malick?” Omar curiously inquired, turning away from her for a brief moment so that he could prepare a customer’s drink. 

“My boyfriend.” She simply states and Omar glanced over at his sister, his eyes widened in aghast. 

“When did you get a boyfriend?” He scoffs, taken aback by the sudden news. Omar pours the alcoholic beverage into the thin glass, dropping an olive into the bottom of it before handing it to the customer. 

He averts his attention back to his sister. 

“We’ve been dating for a few weeks now. I met him at school. He’s nice. He offered to take us out to dinner for mom’s birthday.” She announced avidly before delving into the details of how their relationship developed over the few weeks. 

While he was happy that his sister had found someone who she liked, Omar was bittersweet to know that his family was continuing on with their life and didn’t seem to miss him at all with exception of Nadia. Ever since his father kicked him out of the house, it’s felt like Omar had been completely shunned from the family. 

Omar was still very infuriated by the way his father treated him after learning the truth about his sexuality preference, but he still missed being around his mother and sister. He missed them the most. Especially on occasions like this when they’re supposed to be celebrating his mother’s birthday together as a family but instead he’ll be excluded from the dinner, sitting at home feeling left out.

Nadia’s momentary feeling of bliss subsides as quickly as it rises. She relents when she realized that her mirth about Malick taking their parents out was something that Omar and Ander could probably never do as a couple. She sighs softly, shaking her head at her obliviousness. “I’m sorry. I know it’s still hard to talk about mom and dad.”

Omar smiles weakly at his sister in response. He brushed it off with nonchalance, assuring her that it was okay. “Just wish her a happy birthday for me, okay? I’ll give you a present so that you can take it to her.”

Nadia nods though she still feels reluctant to continue the previous conversation. She decided to subvert the topic of the subject matter instead. “How’s school?”

Omar snorted in a mocking jest. “Just as bad as you’d imagine. I haven’t been keeping up with the work lately so my grades are kinda shitty right now.”

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” Just as Omar parts his mouth open to respond, he sees a guy suddenly beginning to approach. The mysterious guy walks over to them, his fingers tickled at Nadia’s sides causing her to yelp in surprise. She turns around, a wide smile apparent on her face when she sees the familiarizing face standing behind her. Omar stood there quietly watching the two as they talked among each other.

He looked over at his sister with a raised brow, the gesture unmistakably lets her know that he wanted to know who this guy was. “Oh, right!” Nadia chuckled. She entwined her arm with the guy’s as she began to introduce him. “Omar this is Malick; Malick this is my brother Omar.” Malick nodded curtly at Omar, extending his hand out towards him. Omar wrapped his hand around Malick’s and gave a firm, amicable shake as they both exchanged _‘nice to meet you’s_ to each other.

“We’re gonna get going, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Omar nodded. Nadia smiled softly at him as she untwined her arm from within Malick’s and walked over to her brother. Omar maneuvered around the counter and met his sister in a hugging embrace, kissing the top of her head. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” She repeats the heartfelt sentiment before walking hand in hand with Malick through the crowded club, heading for the door. “Remember what I said about Ander!” She shouts over her shoulder before they finally make their egress out of the club. Omar sighs softly. He knows that it wasn’t going to be easy trying to coax Ander into opening up to him, but he was determined not to relent until he knew why Ander was pushing him away again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m not even a big guzman/nadia shipper but they have way better chemistry than malick/nadia. i’m kinda trying to keep in tact with season 3’s storylines while also rewriting it around as a fix it story for omander, given that malick/nadia’s relationship will follow through just as it did on the show (ofc it’ll be v brief though)


	7. Chapter 7

To say that the chemotherapy had barred an exasperated physical toll on Ander was a mere understatement. He had gone to three sessions now, each time he’s more enervated than the last. His body felt completely weak, almost idle. 

Ander didn’t anticipate for the chemo to be this brutal to endure. He had mistakenly undermined Doctor Kushnir’s and Alexis’ forewarning to him. 

He was perched at his desk, elbows propped onto the smooth surface of the table, cheeks resting against the palm of his hands, eyelashes fluttering gently as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He could hear his teacher’s words beginning to fade out, as exhaustion began to conquer him. 

But just as the soft wisps of his curly eyelashes began to cast a shadow over his eyes as he started to lull into a deep slumber, he’s hastily prying his eyes open again and quickly scrambling to his feet as the bitter taste of bile simmered in his stomach and began to trickle in his throat. 

“Ander?” He hears the teacher curiously call out as he watched Ander run out of the classroom. 

Ander covered his mouth with his hands, trying to refrain from vomiting on the floors in the hallway, he clutches his stomach as his throat contrasted in gags. He could taste the bitterness of the vomit collecting at the opening of mouth, ready to be empty. 

Kicking his way through the boys bathroom doors, Ander pushed his way through a group of students who were loitering around, mindlessly ignoring their chastising calls of ‘excuse you, asshole!’ as he staggered into a vacant stall. 

The contents in Ander’s stomach disgustingly filled into the porcelain bowl, his body heaved violently as he crouched over, tightly clutching the toilet. The repulsive stench of the puke circulated around the airtight stall, causing another bough of nausea to overpower through him. 

When he was finally finished, he pulled off a few pieces of toilet tissue and wiped the chunky remnants from around his mouth. He disposed of the dirty tissue, his mouth jutting downward in a distasteful frown as he sees the contents of this morning’s breakfast pooling around in the toilet. He quickly flushed it. 

Ander groans lightly as his head falls backwards against the wall with a soft thud. He closes his eyes, inhaling and exhaling steady breath while he tried to subside the feeling of nausea that began to accrue again. 

“Ander?” He hears the sotto voce of someone call out, the sounds of their gait as their shoes connected against the hardwood tiled floors ricocheted throughout the bathroom. 

He opened his eyes, sitting his body upright. His eyebrows furrowed together confusedly, “Rebeca?” Ander asks, curious to know what she was doing in the boys bathroom. 

He hears her walk further into the bathroom, the sound of her footsteps come to an abrupt stop when she suddenly appears in the doorway of the stall he was sitting in.

The features on her face were creased into a worried frown. He could her nose scrunch when the lingering stench of his previous projectile vomiting, whiffs in her nostrils but she still maintained a softened countenance as she crouched down and asked, “Are you okay?” 

The corner of his lips curl upward in a weak smile. He nods his head, offering her a simple retort of “Yes.” He knows that his answer is disbelieving, and if Rebeca’s knowing raise of the eyebrows and tilt of the head were anything to go by, then she too could easily detect his façade.

She grunts lowly as she stretches her legs outward and settled onto the spot next to him on the floor. She nudged his shoulder, “Come on. What’s really going on with you? I know something’s wrong.” She states in hopes that it would persuade him into telling her the truth instead of a bleak, monotonous response.

Ander sighs softly in apprehension, chewing softly on his lower lip. He didn’t want to tell Rebe about his leukemia. He didn’t want hers or anyone else’s pity. He intended on getting a full recovery, there was simply no need of telling her about something when there’s a great chance that it could be gone by the end of his chemo sessions.

“It’s nothing. I think it’s food poisoning from that takeout place I ordered from last night.” He shrugged, trying to ignore the accusatory look of disbelief that she was giving him.

“Ander,” Rebeca sighs, shaking her head. But Ander’s already clambering to his feet, smoothing a hand over his clothes and swiping away the dirt that settled onto the back of his pants. 

“I’m fine, Rebe. Honestly, I just got a little sick. It’s no big deal.” Ander gingerly sauntered over to the sink. He turned on the faucet, squirted a dollop of the sudsy soap into the palm of his hand and began to wash them.

He lifted his head, looking into the reflection of the mirror to see Rebeca standing behind him. Her hands sat steadily on her hips. She wants to further prod him in interrogation to seek the truth out of him. She could easily tell that he was lying by the way he quickly diverted his eyes away from hers whenever she asked him a question. 

But, Rebeca also knew that she couldn’t force him into telling her something that he obviously didn’t want her to know about. So she relented from the inquiries. 

“Okay, but you at least need to go home for the rest of the day. No offense, but that pretty face of yours is looking a little drained and I saw you in the hallway earlier today, it looked like you were about to collapse at any second!” 

Ander turned off the water and walked over to the paper towel dispenser then began to dry his hand. He tilted a head at Rebeca. “Why do you care so much about me?” He asked.

The inquiry wasn’t callus or ill intended in any manner, he genuinely wanted to know why she cared about his well being when they weren’t even friends. He appreciated her concern, nonetheless. 

“Because I love you and I want to make sure that you’re okay.” She expressed with sincerity, her words make Ander smile softly. 

He playfully rolled his eyes, folding his hands underneath his chest. A smirk is evident on his lips.

“You don’t love me you just think I’m hot.” He says, reminiscing on the various occurrences where she unabashedly flirted with him when she first arrived at Las Encinas, prior to learning about his sexuality. (Not that it stopped her from making occasional flirtatious remarks at him every now and then). 

Rebeca huffed a playful scoff of mock offense, “It’s a form of love.” She rebuttaled in defense, causing both of them to laugh. 

When the contagion of their mirthful laughter subsided, Rebeca looked at him in an earnest manner. “In all seriousness, whatever’s going on you don’t have to tell me but you should at least tell someone.” 

Ander nods his head somberly. 

Rebeca offered him a gentle smile before extending her arms out and embracing him into a hug. Ander was slightly aghast by the sudden contact, but eventually relaxed at her touch and engulfed her into a amicable hug. 

When they retracted from the embrace, Rebeca playfully punched him against the shoulder. “I better not see you in the hallway, Muñoz! Go home.” She forewarned, tossing the remark over her shoulder as she made her egress from the boys bathroom. 

Ander considered Rebeca’s words. Maybe it would avail him to go home and rest rather than sluggishly try to sit his way through five remaining hours of classes while struggling to stay awake. He finished up in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth with water and gurgling to get the excess taste out of mouth before going back to the classroom to collect his things. 

Ander decided to drop by his mother’s office and inform her that we would no longer be in attendance for the rest of the school day. He rapted a knock on the door, waiting for a few seconds before walking in upon hearing: “Come in!” 

She was seated behind her desk, her deft fingers were typing away on the keys of her laptop. She halted, a smile spreading across her face when she looked up to see that it was her son. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Did you just miss me?” 

Ander chuckled softly and nodded his head. “Yeah, I did actually.” He retorts, walking even further into the room. He slumps his tired body into the chair seated across from her office desk. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m going home. I got sick earlier and I’m still not feeling all too well.” 

Azucena worries a look, “Are you okay?” She frowned in concern. 

“Not really. I just need to lay down, probably need a nap too.” When Azucena suggested that she would allow the vice principal to fill in her spot for the day so she could go home to take care of him, Ander assuringly refuted the offer. 

He didn’t want his mother missing out on work on his account. 

Eventually, she acceded in agreement but that didn’t keep her from worrying. “I’ll call every hour to check up on you. Make sure you keep your phone nearby.” She asserts as she briefed him a list of food items and drinks that could settle his upset stomach. “I’ll make some soup when I get home.”

“I’ll try to get home early today. If not, I’ll call someone to check up on you.”

Ander groaned lightly in opposition. “Ma, I’m not a little kid. I’ll be fine.” 

Azucena rose to her feet, walking around the large desk that sat in between them. “I know that but you’re still my son and I worry about you. Especially these days. You’re always so tired and laying in bed. I don’t see you going out with your friends much these days either.” 

Ander knew that the affects of his chemo were staring to get more noticeable just like Doctor Kushnir had said. Eventually, he knew it would get worse and that he would have to inform his mother of the truth about his illness. He didn’t want to keep her in the dark about it too long, especially now knowing that she was starting to suspect something about his aloof behavior. 

It certainly wasn’t the right time to tell her a life shattering secret as big as that right now in the middle of her office. He supposes he could tell her later on tonight when she comes home from work. 

God, he was painfully dreading that future conversation but Ander knows that it’s one that he needs to have with her.

“I guess school’s been keeping me busy.” He says, shrugging half heartedly before groggily rising to his feet. He leans forward and placed a gentle kiss against his mother’s cheek. “I’m going to get going. I’ll see you later at home.” 

\- 

He’s sprawled out across his bed, a fluffy pillow tucked underneath his head, the blankets haphazardly swathed across his body as he curled into the comforting plushness of his bed. Ander isn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but if his dry throat and heavy bleary eyelids were anything to go by then he assumed it was for a fairly long time. 

He yawns loudly, scrubbing a hand over his heavy eyelids as he pries his eyes open. He blinks in surprise, foolishly assuming that his mind and eyes are playing cruel tricks on him when she sees Omar in his room. He’s on the single couch fast asleep, his long body is curled in an uncomfortable position as he laid there resting peacefully. 

“Omar?” Ander murmurs, his voice is scratchy and kinda raspy from sleep. 

Omar must’ve been on high alert because as soon as the soft mutter of his name escaped from Ander’s parted mouth, he rouses in haste. His glazy, sleep heavy eyes glance around the room eventually narrowing in on Ander. Omar clambers to his feet and is quickly walking over to Ander’s bedside when he noticed that he was awake. 

“Hi.” Omar whispered softly, the bed dips lightly as he settles down at the edge. “You’re finally awake. You were sleeping for so long I was beginning to worry.” He jokes playfully, the corners of his lips curl upward in a shy, teasing smile. 

Ander’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, curiously wondering if this was a fervor dream. Almost as if he was reading Ander’s mind, Omar suddenly informs him: “Your mom asked me to drop by and check in on you. She told me that you were sick. I know things between us are still weird but I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” He admits, shrugging his shoulders and averting his gaze downward. 

He closes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “If you don’t want me here then I’ll go—” He’s starting to stand to his feet, but Ander’s hand is wrapping gently around his wrist, tugging him back down onto the bed. 

“No. I-I want you here. Stay with me, please?” He whispers, his eyes looking deeply into Omar’s shining with a plead of desperation. 

Something about the way he says it, about the way his fingers are tightly gripping onto his wrist, how he swallows thickly, how his voice trembled as he pleaded Omar to stay made Ander seem so vulnerable. There were only a few instances where he’d witnessed his boyfriend like this, so needy and wanting. Something about this was familiar in a way that deeply worried Omar. 

He didn’t care about what they were going through at the moment, Ander needed him. He was sick and something terrifying was going on with him. There was no way in hell he was going to deny being there for Ander in this time of need. 

Omar nodded, whispering a soft “Okay.” 

Ander knows that it isn’t fair for him to rely so heavily on Omar’s support when he’s the one that’s always pushing him away and keeping secrets from him. He knows it’s not fair to expect Omar to always run back to him whenever he needs him the most.

But he always did no matter what. He was always there for Ander even at the times when he didn’t deserve it. Ander knows he’s the one that initiated the breakup and that the whole purpose of it was to keep Omar from having to endure this heavy burden, but all those thoughts momentarily left his brain. 

Ander wasn’t thinking about chemo or leukemia. All he was thinking about was how safe and content he felt wrapped in Omar’s arms. He missed this; the feeling of Omar’s warm body pressed against his, the familiarizing smell of his body, the way their limbs lazily intertwined as they laid on the bed together. 

It was nice, having something to think about other than cancer. 

“I missed you.” Ander’s confession is so soft and timid that Omar almost doesn’t hear it. His heart starts beating erratically against his ribcage, a shaky breath catches in the back of his throat. 

Ander swallowed thickly, his nerves began to accrue at the stilled silence that filled in the air. He shakes his head, then scoffs a rueful chuckle as he continues. “I know that I shouldn’t even be saying this especially after everything that I did but—” He twists his body around in Omar’s arms so that they’re now facing each other. 

He meets the softened gaze of Omar’s tawny brown eyes. “I miss you so fucking much and laying in this bed every night, not being able to reach out in the middle of the night to touch you, not seeing your face first thing in the morning it’s torture. I want you here with me. I want you back. I should’ve never told you to leave. I’m such an idiot. Sometimes I don’t even know why you put up with—” 

Ander’s words are interjected mid rant by Omar leaning forward and marring his mouth against Ander’s as he embraced him in a deepened kiss.

Omar moved his mouth in a feverish tandem against Ander’s, nipping softly and savouring in the delicate softness of his lips. They rest their forehead against each other’s, gazing in the smothering softness of the one another’s eyes. 

“I come back because I love you. I’ll always love you, no matter what.” Omar whispered. His hand reaches up to cradle Ander’s face. His thumb stroked gentle circles along his angular cheeks. 

“I love you too, so much.” Ander says, stroking a soothing hand along the back of Omar’s backside. And they both know that there are unsettled issues that still resided among them that needed to be addressed, but that caring dissipates from their brains for a brief moment as they ravished in the taste of each other’s mouths. 

Omar hums softly into Ander’s mouth, his teeth captures his bottom lip within it’s grasp and teasingly tugged and nibbled at the plush flesh. When Ander makes a breathy keening noise in response, Omar digs his fingers into the billowy fluffiness of Ander’s curls and pulls him closer. 

They’re kissing each other with a deepened, insatiable vigor until Omar feels the softness of something falling between his fingers. He opens his eyes to see that a small wad of Ander’s hair in the palm of his hand. 

He gasps loudly in shock, gently nudging Ander against the shoulder to grasp his attention. “Ander!” Ander pried his kiss swollen mouth away from Omar’s and pulled back a bit, wanting to see what all the uproar was about. 

The smirk that was on his face quickly fell when he notices that a few tangles of his hair was in Omar’s hands. He looks over at Omar to see that his eyes were widened with horror. “Ander, what the hell is going on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know that in the show, ander tells rebeca about the leukemia first, but i want his mom and omar to know about it first with my story. i feel like with him keeping it from them, that those two being the people he’s closes to that in this case it would make more sense that he’d tell them first. 
> 
> i’m writing this at like two in the morning, so there’s a great chance of spelling/grammatical errors. (i’ll go back and fix later!)


	8. Chapter 8

The look of mortification that creased on Omar’s face as the curly piece of Ander’s hair rested in the fingertips of his hands quickly dissipated and transitioned into one of worriment. 

He stared at the frilly piece of hair in assessment as an unsettling realization suddenly careened throughout him. 

There was only one specific reason he knew of that would cause someone’s hair to suddenly fall out. Omar’s eyes slowly flickered upward, his gaze diverting from the piece of hair to Ander’s face. 

He stood there, attentively roving his eyes over Ander’s. Omar had noticed that Ander lost weight. His boyfriend’s usually taut, fairly built physique was now slightly scrawny. The fawn color of Ander’s face was flushed and now resided a pale pallor, that made him look sick. 

Omar’s eyes began to sheen with unshed tears as he began to analyze his findings, he feels a thick lump enclosing at the hollow of his throat, his legs feel weak as he stood there attempting to maintain any barring of strength that he had left. 

“It wasn’t a false scare was it?” Omar asks, the words come out in a shaky whisper as he tried to maintain his voice at a steady sotto voce, but failed miserably. 

Ander pursed his lips together then averted his eyes downward to the floor, purposefully avoiding Omar’s gaze. 

Omar feels his chest tightening, his lower lip quivered as he inhaled a trembling breath.

“Ander,” He begins, the beating of his chest is now at an unsteady cadence, the sound of its erratic beating ricochets loudly throughout the room amid the stilled silence that lingered among them. 

The air feels thick around them, the constraints of his chest thrashing against his ribcage feels as if it’s going to swallow whole. 

He hadn’t even realized that he was already crying until he tastes the salty bitterness of the tears burning on the tip of his tongue, slipping into the creases of his mouth. His vision is blurred by the thick tears glistening in his eyes. 

He doesn’t want to ask the inquiry though a part of him already knows the truth. He doesn’t want to say it out loud because then it would be real and Omar doesn’t want what he’s thinking to be real 

But he has to know. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, shuddering another shaky breath.

“What’s going on with you. Tell me the truth.” Omar pries his eyes open, the moist remnants of his tears stick on the curly wisps of his lengthy eyelashes. _“Please.”_

And he doesn’t care how desperate or needy he sounds as he stood there nearly begging for Ander to tell him the truth. He needs to know. 

Ander’s gaze remains cemented on the wooden tiles of his floor, too afraid to look up. All that time of assuring himself that keeping Omar away from knowing the truth was the best thing for both of them, now as he stood athwart from his boyfriend, who’s face was crestfallen and moistened with tears Ander couldn’t even muster up the words to speak. 

He was afraid. He had barely adapted to this new reality himself, he could only imagine how Omar would react. 

Ander’s mouth parts open but no coherent words come out. He closes his mouth shut, his shoulders sullenly sag. 

He didn’t know why this was so hard. Earlier, he was damn near ready to tell his mom about the leukemia at her office. But with Omar, standing here, listening to his pleads as he sniffles lowly, made it much more difficult for Ander to say the words out loud.

Maybe part of him was still in a hazy denial. Maybe he was afraid of how it would change things between them. 

His initial reasoning for not telling anyone in the first place is because he didn’t want anyone’s pity or to be an unwanted burden to anyone. But he’d been keeping this secret for awhile now and it was starting to get much more challenging keeping it discrete especially now when his physical appearance is changing and his hair is falling out. 

“Ander, god, for fuck’s sake just tell me the truth!” Omar’s rancorous cry of desperation retracts Ander from his reverie. At the sound of his voice, Ander finally averts his eyes upward and meets Omar’s gaze. 

His heart solemnly aches, guilt throngs throughout his body when he stares into Omar’s teary eyes. 

“You’re sick aren’t you? The weight loss, you not having enough energy to do anything anymore, your hair falling out. You’re sick.” 

When Ander nods his head in confirmation, a shaky breath slips through Omar’s parted lips. 

“It’s leukemia.” He’d finally said, he continued to speak further elaborating the details of his illness. “I’ve been doing chemo for two weeks now and at the end, the doctor said that I’d know if it killed the cancer cells so I could be fine.” He says, attempting to reassure Omar to no avail. 

Omar stood there in silence for a few moments until he finally spoke up and asked, “Does your mom know?” Part of him knows that if she did that she would’ve told him about it. She wouldn’t have kept something this big from him when she knows how much he cares about her son. 

The answer to his inquiry finally dawns upon him when he sees Ander abashedly lower his head in shame. 

“Why did you lie? Why did you feel like you had to keep this from us?” Omar further implores wanting to know the reason for his boyfriend’s actions. 

He didn’t understand why Ander felt like he couldn’t talk to them. Was it because he was afraid that they would not have understood what he was going through? Did he feel ashamed to admit that he was sick? 

When Ander just stands there quietly not answering Omar’s questions; Omar sauntered up to him, tucking his forefinger under the base of Ander’s chin and tilted his head upward, forcing them to meet each other’s gaze. 

“Ander.” He calls softly, his hand reaching up to cradle his boyfriend’s face within the palm of his hand. He could feel Ander’s hot tears burning his skin as they fell from his heavy eyes. 

“I didn’t want to burden you.” He admits. The confession stuns a perplexed Omar who furrowed an incredulous look of disbelief. 

“You shouldn’t have to waste your time taking care of me. You’ve already spent your whole life doing that for your family. I-I can’t put something this heavy on you and ask you to stop living your life—”

“No.” Omar says, interrupting Ander mid-sentence. He shakes his head in refusal. “You don’t get to decide that for me. If I want to take care of you, it’s because I love you not because I feel obligated to.”

Ander shakes his head, beginning to retract himself from Omar’s embrace. “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s not fair for me to expect you to drop everything on my behalf.” He unwinds himself from Omar’s arms then starts to walk away.

But Omar’s adamance and relentlessness wouldn’t abide by his wishes. He stepped in front of Ander, blocking his path to the door.

“Omar,” Ander sighs in defeat.

“No.” He reiterates, stepping forward and cupping Ander’s face within his hands again. He stares intently down into his eyes.

”You have to stop pushing me away every time something gets hard. We’re in a relationship, Ander. We’re supposed to help each other get through things like this. I’m here and I am going to be here with you every step of the way whether you like it or not because I love you. You are not a burden nor will you never be one.”

Ander sniffles lowly as he nods his head. He feels grateful to know albeit he’d been acting stubborn and pushing Omar away, that Omar was still willing to be there for him just like always.

In all honesty, Ander didn’t think he could bear this alone without Omar by his side. Now, he was glad to know that he didn’t have to.

“I’ll always be here for you. You know that, right?”

And Ander does know that because time after time no matter what Omar had always came back to him even when he didn’t deserve it.

“I do.” Ander answers and Omar smiles softly as he thumbs away the tears that spilled from Ander’s eyes and onto his cheeks.”There’s something I want to do before I tell my mom.” He states, the vague remark piques Omar’s curiosity.

He sat sturdily on the edge of the tub, his hands rested lazily in his lap as he tilted his head upward. Omar stood hovering over him; standing between the apex of Ander’s legs as he ran the clippers over Ander’s head, the remnants of his brown, billowy brown curls falls softly onto the floor as the sharp blade cut in a swift rhythm.

“You’re sure about this?” Omar asks, stopping his movements momentarily to look down at Ander. “I only cut a little so far. There’s still time to back out.” He offered.

But Ander shook his head at the suggestion. He smiled reassuringly at his adoring boyfriend. “It’s gonna fall off anyway. This way, you won’t have to be petrified at the sight of my hair falling from you running your fingers through them again.”

Omar winces at the memory, he mutters an apology for his inadvertent insensitivity.

“It’s okay. You didn’t know.” Countered Ander who rested his hands onto Omar’s waist and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Now finish shaving it off before I do end up changing my mind.”

Just as Ander wanted, Omar sifted the razor clippers all over Ander’s head, pieces of discarded hair messily scattered across the floor when he finally finished. He cut the electric device off and sat it down onto the counter before taking a step back to observe Ander’s new hair cut.

“How does it look?” Ander asked apprehensively, nervously biting on his bottom lip as he tried to decipher the gauge of Omar’s face.

“You look handsome either way.” Omar answers truthfully, waving a hand towards the mirror, gesturing for Ander to get up and look so that he conclude the opinion for himself.

Reluctantly, Ander slowly rose to his feet. He glanced hesitantly at Omar before eventually approaching the mirror. He stared at his reflection in the mirror; aghast by what he saw.

He definitely looked different, but it wasn’t as terrible as he presumed.

Omar walked behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist. His chin tucked onto Ander’s shoulder as he stared into the mirror, looking at both of their reflections.

“You okay?”

Ander nodded, exhaling a soft breath as he stared back at Omar. “I am knowing that you’re here with me.”

He turned around, twisting himself in Omar’s arms until they’re now fully facing each other. Their arms wrap around each other, pulling them both closer. Ander crouched down a bit, craning his head down just enough so that their foreheads rested against one another’s.

Ander speaks softly. “Thanks for being here and doing this with me.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be.”

-

It take his mom half an hour later than usual to finally arrive home. Ander and Omar sat on the living room couch, holding each other’s hands while they waited for Azucena to enter into the house.

“Sorry I’m late!” She says, announcing her arrival as she walks through the front door. “I stopped by the store to pick some things up for the soup I’m making you for—oh.” She pauses mid-stride when she notices them sitting in the living room.

“Hello, Omar. I didn’t think you’d still be here. Will you be joining us for dinner? I’m making soup since Ander’s sick. That reminds me, thank you by the way for checking up on him. I wanted to leave work sooner but I couldn’t.”

Azucena explains, starting to walk into the kitchen to place down the grocery bags that were occupied in her hands. Omar stood to his feet and offered her assistance, this way allowing Ander and his mother to talk privately.

“It’s gonna be okay.” He whispers, leaning down to peck a kiss against Ander’s cheek.

“I’ll put these up for you, Ms. Muñoz.” Omar grabbed ahold of the bags from her grasp and tutted them into his arms.

“Thank you, Omar.”

When he gaitered off into the kitchen to put the groceries away, Azucena turned towards the living room to see her son sitting on the sofa, a look of distraught pained his face.

She walks into the living room, gently settling down onto the spot next to him. “I almost didn’t notice the haircut at first. It looks good by the way.”

Ander chuckled softly as he ran a hand over the smoothness of his head. “Thanks.”

Azucena raises a hand and presses it against Ander’s forehead, checking to see if he had a fever. “Are you feeling better? Is your stomach still upset? I talked to Rebeca earlier. She came by my office. She was really worried, said you got sick in the middle of class.”

 _Of course Rebeca would go to his mom with her concerns about him,_ Ander muses inwardly to himself. He wasn’t angry at her for doing so, she was only doing what any friend would do if they were in that situation.

He was actually appreciative in Rebeca’s intrusive meddling, his already knowing that he was sick could somehow make telling her the news of his cancer easier. Or so he hoped.

He already knows telling her would be hard, a different kind of hard in comparison to when he told Omar. A kind of hard that he didn’t want to admit but knew that he had to.

Because if anyone deserved to know the truth, it was her. It wasn’t fair that he’d kept both of them in the dark just because he thought it was best for them.

And no matter how much Ander knows seeing his mother cry is going to pain him, this was just something he could no longer avoid.

“Mom,” Ander begins, clearing his dry throat. Azucena stops talking about what Rebeca had informed her earlier and stared curiously down at her son. “I have to tell you something and I need you to not be upset with me not telling you sooner, okay?”

Azucena’s countenance marred one of confusion, curiously wanting to know what her son was referring to. So she only blinks rapidly and nods in understanding.

She watches in heed as Ander inhaled a deep breath. He writhed his hands together, an idiosyncrasy of his that he only did when he was nervous to talk to her about something.

Whatever he wanted to tell her must’ve been important because Azucena had never seen her son look so timorous before.

“Do you remember that appointment I made at the doctor’s office a few weeks ago?” Ander questioned, deciding to gradually ease his way into the conversation.

“Yes.”

Ander chuckled ruefully then numbly pursed his lips together as he closed his eyes and revealed. “I wasn’t honest with you about the results.”

He hears his mother shift nervously on the couch, swiveling around so that she’s fully directing towards him now. Azucena feels her heartbeat pulsating. She didn’t know what it was that Ander had to reveal to her but it had to be something bad.

She inwardly hopes that her motherly intuition is wrong in this situation, that whatever it isn’t as bad as what she’s thinking. But then again, she knows that nothing good ever comes after someone saying that they lied about the results of their testing.

“I lied because I thought that I could deal with this by myself. I hoped that I could somehow get better before anyone found out but–” He opens his eyes and shakes his head apologetically. Remorse pains the features on his face. “I realized that I couldn’t do this without you or Omar.”

Azucena’s eyes curiously search his, trying to find some answer to decipher the meaning behind his confession. “Ander, sweetie what’s going on?” She asks in a soothing sotto voce, trying to ease some of the pent up nerves that she could see haunting him.

He looked so scared and vulnerable sitting there next to her, almost as if he was scared to say what he wanted to admit.

Ander squeezes his eyes shut again, exhaling a deep breath before finally saying, “I have cancer. Leukemia to be exact. I’ve known about this for a few weeks now. I’ve been going to chemo and talking with my doctor about how I can try to get better. I tried to go through this alone ’cause I didn’t want to burden you. I was eventually going to tell you sooner but–”

Azucena scoffed incredulously at his absurd suggestion. “Burden? Ander you are my _son._ There’s no way that you could ever be a burden, okay? You’ve always been the one constant in my life that has kept me going all these years.”

Guilt and pain throngs throughout the crevices of Ander’s body when he sees fresh tears shimmering in her pupils, her wobbling bottom lip tucks in between her teeth.

“Mom.” He couldn’t bear to see her cry. It hurt him too much especially knowing that he was the reason for her tears.

“This is why you’ve been so sick and fatigued lately. You were sick and I didn’t even notice. I’ve been too focused on the school–” Ander shakes his head, reaching down to grab ahold of her hands.

He interjects her because he already knows where she’s going with this. He refuses to allow his mother to even think that she was somehow responsible for him being sick or for her not knowing sooner. It wasn’t fair of her to blame herself for this.

“Hey, no, no. It’s not on you. I did this. I lied to you and Omar because I thought it would be easier and that somehow it wouldn’t feel as real. But it is and I have to deal with this so I can get better. And I want you and Omar there with me, every step of the way being my support system. Can you do that for me, mama?” He asks, squeezing her hand for reassurance, wanting to know if she was still with him.

“Of course. Whatever you need I’ll be there.” She seals her declaring promise with a kiss against his cheek before scooting forward and embracing him into a hug.

Ander wrapped his arms tightly around his mother, tucking his face within the warmth of her neck. She runs a soothing hand down his back, whispering reassuring promises that they would all get through this together as a family.

Ander looks up to see Omar standing in the doorway of the living room, silently watching their embrace. He gives Ander a small smile in which Ander immediately mimics. His mom was right, as long as he had them nothing else mattered.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for taking so long to update. i started binge watching money heist (currently on part 3) and now i’m addicted to the show 😭 i can’t believe i waited so long to watch it. it’s so good! (i highly recommend watching it if you haven’t already). you’ll thank me later.

Ander groggily sauntered into the house, his bones ached with exhaustion after enduring heedless hours at school sitting behind a desk and trying to consume the knowledge that his teachers were spewing to him. He felt spent and completely drained, the only thing he so desperately desired right now was a hot shower and to be cuddled up with his adoring boyfriend. 

“Omar?” Ander calls out, tossing the jangling set of house keys onto the marble countertop as he walked into the kitchen to retrieve himself something cold to drink. 

He walked towards the refrigerator, grabbing himself a bottle of water. He twists the cap off, bringing the bottle to his mouth and takes a long gulp. 

“Omar?” He calls out again, his eyebrows curiously furrowing together as he sets the bottle aside. 

It was quite peculiar that Omar wasn’t responding. It was his day off work today and usually on his days off, he would greet Ander on the lips with a welcoming kiss whenever he would arrive home from school. But all that greeted Ander today was the uncanny silence that filled throughout the house. 

“Babe?” He walks up the small, wooden flight of stairs that led up to his bedroom. He shimmied out of his jacket, absentmindedly tossing it aside and toed his shoes off by the door when he entered inside of his bedroom.

Ander’s curiosity piques when he hears the low hymn of music playing from the bathroom. He follows the sound. As he approached, he could see a small cascading glow emanating through the ajar door. 

Ander stealthily gaitered forward, gently pushing the door open and walking inside of the bathroom to see Omar crouched over the tub, dispensing something inside of it as the water filled up. Looking around, Ander sees that the bathroom is decorated with lit candles around it, and a trail of rose petals that led from the door to the bathtub. 

Ander smiles softly, leaning his body against the doorway as he watched Omar dance and hum along to the music.

Omar was completely oblivious to his boyfriend’s presence and hadn’t realized that he was standing there watching him until he turned around to retrieve something from the bedroom. 

He jumped startled, resting a hand over his posthasting heart as he chided Ander. “Asshole, you scared the shit out of me!” 

Ander chuckled softly, walking up to Omar to press a soft kiss against his lips. “Sorry. I called your name like five times and you didn’t answer.” When they retracted from the intimate embrace, Ander looked around the decorated bathroom and raised an inquiring brow. 

“What’s all this about?” 

“It’s for you,” Omar says, causing a confused look to furrow deeper on Ander’s face. Omar chuckled at his adorableness before loosening the plaid tie that chaffed around Ander’s neck.

“You said that you’ve been feeling extra tired lately because of all the chemo. So, I did a little research and also called your doctor to see which non-toxic items cancer patients can use for their baths. He said to stay away from scented items so I brought you some organic body wash and body oils from the store.” Omar adduced, absentmindedly tossing the satiny fabriced tie aside before he began to undo the buttons on Ander’s white collard shirt. 

“Huh, so you’re–” 

“Helping you relax.” Omar answers, continuously prying open each of the buttons one by one until he sees the fawn skin of Ander’s chest. “You’re going to take a bath and afterwards, I’m going to give you a massage.” 

Ander shrugged out of the shirt as it slid off of his taut shoulders. Omar’s dexterous hands are tugging at the belt on Ander’s pants, slipping it through the belt loops as his pants loosen around his slender hips. 

“You didn’t have to do all this you know.” He says, albeit the gesture makes his heart swoon. To anyone else, a gesture such as running your significant other a bath seemed so simple but to Ander, upon knowing that Omar did this simply because he knew how exhausted Ander was after chemo and how overwhelmed he had been feeling lately, made him even more grateful to have someone so attentive and caring like Omar in his life. 

Omar shrugged, a sheepish smile curled upward on his lips. “I know but I wanted to. Now finish getting naked and get in the tub before the water gets cold.” He demanded, his authoritative tone causes Ander to chuckle lightly. 

“Yes sir.” He rid himself down of his pants and shucked out of his boxer brief, removing the last remainder of his clothing until he stood completely nude. 

He shivered lightly as the brisk air wafted against his naked skin. Omar smirked, his eyes raffishly admired his boyfriend’s naked physique. He bites down on his bottom lip, then approaches Ander to greet him with a feverish kiss. 

Ander reciprocates each of Omar’s heartfelt kisses, moaning softly into his mouth. 

“Woah there big guy,” Omar chuckled, hastily pulling his mouth away. He steadied his hands on Ander’s chest and turned his head away, denying Ander’s kisses before their lips connected. 

“Omar!” Ander huffs, pouting his lips in a moue frown. 

“I told you this is about you relaxing.” Much to Ander’s disdain he petulantly allowed Omar to grab ahold of his hand and drag him towards the bathtub. “Get in.”

Sighing softly and playfully rolling his eyes, Ander was docile of Omar’s commands and dipped a toe in, testing the temperature of the water. When he realized that it was to his satisfactory, he placed each of his feet into the sudsy water then crouched down, easing into the tub. 

The water sloshed around as he shifted his body, trying to find a comfortable laying position. 

“Good. Now just relax, okay? I’ll be in the bedroom waiting for you when you get out.” Omar conveyed, before turning around and walking towards the door to make his exit but his gait halts mid-stride after Ander exclaims a cry of ‘ _wait_!’ 

“Where are you going?” 

Omar turns back around to face Ander. He raises a brow, wondering the reason for Ander’s reluctance on letting him leave. 

Omar pointed a thumb over his shoulder, directing towards the bedroom. “In there. You can relax better if I’m not in here.” 

“I can relax just fine with you in here.” Ander rebuttals, his assertiveness causes Omar to shake his head and playfully roll his eyes. The whole purpose of this was to help ease some of the pent up tension and stress that he knew Ander was feeling, but of course Ander had other intentions. 

Raising a challenging brow and smirks mischievously, Ander dips his hand into the water and splashes Omar with it. 

“Ander!” Omar chides, stepping away so that his clothes wouldn’t get further drenched. 

“Get naked or else I’ll keep doing it.” He forewarned, the playful smirk is still evident on his lips. 

“You’re unbelievable you know that?” 

Ander shrugged a shoulder as he scooted further down into the bathtub until his head rested comfortably against the wall. He sighed in content and fluttered his eyes close. 

“I’m not hearing any clothes falling off.” He says in a sing-songy voice, cracking an eye open to see that Omar was still standing there completely clad in his clothing. 

Ander tilted his head in amusement, waiting patiently for Omar to inevitably succumb to his docility. Soon enough, Omar sighing deeply as he began to shred off articles of his clothing one by one. 

“Fine but I get to be the big spoon.” He mutters, shrugging off his shirt and sweatpants. 

When he was fully naked, Ander whistled coquettishly as he ogled at the sight of Omar sauntering up to him. He scoots backwards a bit, crouching his legs towards his chest so that he could make enough room for Omar to get in. 

Omar grunts lowly as he eased inside of the warm water. He perches himself behind Ander, stretching his long limbs out in front of both of them as he settles into an upright position. 

The tub is not that big, but it was enough space for both of them to maneuver around in. 

When he’s comfortably situated, Ander scoots his body backwards so that his back is chiseled against Omar’s chest. He wiggles his hips around a bit, smirking when Omar inhaled a sharp breath and gripped a hand on his thigh. 

“We’re not in here to do that.” Omar counters, though if he were being truthful the way Ander’s butt was pressed so hotly onto his lap right now made his arousal suddenly accrue. 

“I wasn’t planning on seducing you. Besides, it’s not like I have the energy to do anything these days.” He admits, sighing softly as he leans back and snuggled against Omar’s chest. 

Not only was the chemotherapy physically exhausting him, it was also interfering with his sexual life. They’d often fool around if Ander was feeling up to it (which was less times than most), but they hadn’t engaged in a full penetrating tryst since before he was diagnosed. 

Ander hadn’t realized how much he missed sex until now. 

“However, when all of this is over I fully intent on you fucking me senseless to make up for all of the lost time.” He assesses, causing Omar to playfully smack him against the shoulder and chide him for his lewd comments.

“You have such a potty mouth.” 

Ander hums in agreement, not even bothering to deny the comment. “This mouth misses sucking on your dick and having your dick inside of me.” He blows out a bough of air and shakes his head, “Having cancer fucking sucks.” He murmured lowly. 

And suddenly the playful tone that had once filled in the air transitioned into one of melancholy. Omar leaned forward to see that Ander’s roguish smirk jutted into a despondent frown. 

It was then when Omar realized that Ander wasn’t just talking about sex anymore. Every time they brought up the discussion of Ander having cancer, he would always hastily subvert the topic of conversation, trying to maintain his positive facade. 

Omar never pushed or pried for Ander to open up about it (even though he wanted to), because he knew that it was something Ander was still struggling to come to terms with. 

Rubbing a soothing circle against his moistened back, Omar leans forward and rests his chin on Ander’s shoulder. “You okay?” 

It’s a stupid question, because obviously he isn’t but Omar still asks anyway, needing verbal assurance. It takes awhile for Ander to answer. 

He sat there quietly dwelling in his own reverie before eventually shaking his head. He scoffs wryly, muttering a low ‘no’. 

Omar’s grateful that they’re slowly making progress with Ander finally expressing his feelings, but he’s sad to know that his worries about Ander not being fine were true. Of course he didn’t expect Ander to be happy, but seeing the sadness wretched across his face, hearing the pain ringing in his voice, gazing into the despair that clouded in his eyes made Omar’s hurt heavily for his boyfriend. 

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know. You don’t have to pretend you’re okay. Not with me.” He whispered softly, turning his head upright slightly so he could fully face Ander. 

Ander nods his head because he knows this. He never felt like he had to pretend with Omar. He was pretending for himself. He tried so hard to be positive about this because the moment his mind began to wander about the negative aspects of this, then there would be no faith left for him to believe in. 

Right now, the only thing keeping him sane was his mother and Omar who’ve showered him with the upmost support since he revealed his illness to them. But Ander wasn’t fully sure how much longer he could continue with this blind oblivion. It was getting harder to be positive when he was always fatigued or waking up in the middle of the night because of the nausea. 

All days weren’t bad but to him, it seemed as if the bad outweighed the good. 

“We’ll get through this. Whatever happens I’ll always be here.” Omar adamantly declares with an imbued sincerity. He grabs ahold of Ander’s chin and tilts his head to the side so that they’re looking directly into each other’s eyes, their gaze unwavering. 

He wants Ander to know that he means every word that he’s saying, that he’s willing to be here by his side through the downfalls and the happier times, not caring whichever comes first. 

Omar needs Ander to know that it was okay for him to not be strong right now, because he was willing to be strong for the both of them.

Ander sees the truth behind Omar’s words reflected by his facial expression. He undoubtedly believed everything Omar was saying because it was already true. He has already been there for Ander in his darkest days no matter how much Ander pushed him away. 

“I know.” Ander whispers, his voice cracks a little and is kinda raspy due to the thick lump that was forming in the back of his throat. “It’s just–” He sighs softly as he tentatively bit on his lower lip. “It’s hard not thinking that maybe I deserved this. Like maybe this is the universe’s way of punishing me for keeping Polo’s secret.” 

Omar’s eyebrows furrowed at that absurd suggestion. “Is that really what you think? You don’t deserve this, okay? No one does. It’s unfair and shitty but things like this just happen to people sometimes. This is in no way your fault.” 

He wasn’t exactly sure about how karma worked per say but he was damn sure that Ander’s leukemia wasn’t due to his negligence in telling Guzmàn the truth about what Polo did. Omar refused to believe or allow Ander to think like that. It wasn’t fair of him to blame himself for being sick or to think that he deserved this as some kind of punishment. 

He refused to believe that the world could be so cruel to someone like that. 

Ander somberly nods his head again. A small part of him knows that Omar was right but he still couldn’t help but feel guilt for playing his part in the whole situation. 

Wanting to change the topic of conversation, Ander looks down at the now barely sudsy water and frowned. “It’s starting to get cold. We should probably wash up.” 

“Ander–” 

“I’m fine. Not one hundred percent, but I’m fine. I promise.” He assures Omar, leaning forward to press a quick kiss against his frowning lips. “Now are you going to wash my back or do I have to do it myself?” He asks, raising a brow at Omar as he held out the white loofah and extended it towards him, waiting for his answer. 

Much to his avail, Omar grabbed the bathing loofah and lathered it with body wash as the two began to clean their bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeehhhh whole lotta angst. butttt guzmàn’s making an appearance next chapter so be ready for that! 
> 
> as always this is probably full of spelling errors and whatnot, i’ll fix later.

**Author's Note:**

> this was probably boring, but it’s just the beginning. i intend on giving my babies justice, so this will get much more interesting and in depth as the chapters continue.


End file.
